The Wienermobile, photo by James De Mass

Well, the Ketel was certainly flowing on Saturday, but on Sunday morning the sunshine was prying apart my curtains and telling me to get up, go out and do something on this beautiful day. Who am I to ignore that call, especially after weeks of chilly days and downright cold temps at night? I got a friend, a blanket, and some snacks at Publix and hit the bay-front park off 14th St. to bask in the sunshine for the few hours it lasted.

I wasn’t the only one enjoying the brief change in weather as evidenced via my Facebook feed: People were thrilled to get outside for the Downtown art fair both Saturday and Sunday — even the Oscar-Mayer Wienermobile was out around town; I kept seeing it pop up in photos too. We’ll see if the weather lasts but it seems as if spring is sproinging in Sarasota, and season is finally actually starting. Certainly the success of the first-of-its-kind Noise Ordinanace CD Release Party is a sign of more good things to come.

Photo of the Cock & Bull at night by Peter Acker

I sadly missed the event, where 35 local bands played all day at Cock & Bull Pub. Instead I spent the evening with family in Tampa, celebrating my lil’ bro’s 21st b-day (shout-out!). We started with dinner at the dimly-lit Malio’s Prime Steakhouse, where a number of our fellow dinners were attired in tuxes or satin and glittering jewels, claiming they were off to the Gasparilla Debutante Ball (though no record of it exists on the web — surely it can’t be real if it’s not online).

After dinner, it was time to drink — we were celebrating a 21st after all — and lil’ bro chose Peabody’s to do so, a sports-bar around the corner from USF’s campus. As the frat boys piled in I found a spot in the corner to sit back and take it all in: young men in polo shirts talking up Mom, young ladies with Coach bags talking up Dad, and everyone trying to pour as many shots as possible into lil’ bro. Good times. Dad stayed sober enough to get us back safe to SRQ, but an hour car-ride with family after a few drinks can be akin to the ninth circle of hell. Family-drinky time should carry the same rules as polite bar conversation: avoid religion, politics, and discussion of non-present significant others. Love my peoples but I was all too happy to get out of that car and back to homebase.

I didn’t get back in time to go see DJ Supreme1 at Ivory, which was probably a good thing because I hear the after hours was a late one. And, on this particular Sunday, I would rather be in the park enjoying a beautiful day than up drinking…well I’m pretty sure about that anyway.

It was one of those days that makes you remember why you love this town: Near perfect weather, beautiful sea and sky and happy people taking the dog for a walk or filling up the boat for a day on the water. Enthusiasm is returning after so much time being cold and hiding indoors, and I detect a new spirit of collaboration in the air. All week I’ve heard whisperings of a new and improved Fringe Film Fest this April as well as the first news about local art collaborative S/ART/Q’s new show in March. The organizers of the Vinyl Fest are scouting locations and talent for this year’s summer music festival and are also promising bigger and better. Do it, people. If Noise Ordinance got 35 bands — and that means god-knows how many narcissistic musicians — together for one kick-ass show just think about what else we can accomplish for Sarasota. Keep up the good work people!

It’s much more fun on facebook: Become a fan of The Scenestress or follow on Twitter and be all Web 2.0-like.

Regular faves like Horsefeathers’ biweekly Drag Queen Bingo never failed to entertain, with a barrage of inappropriate language alongside a healthy dose of gambling, and the other corners of Sarasota’s own little Bermuda triangle also kept me busy (including one memorable ladies’ night at the now-defunct Esca). In May I familiarized myself with all Southside Village has to offer, making some new friends and crawling into the office the next day with one helluva hangover. I also hit the beaches for margaritas at the little-known Lido Key Tiki Bar and a Sunday pool party at The Colony organized by Klauber dynasty offspring.

We were lucky to have some fabulous special events in town too, starting as always with the Sarasota Film Fest, a week of crowded rooms, Szambelan and B-list celebs. The first outing of the funkdified Vinyl Music Fest was a smash success — with packed clubs all over the city and chance encounters with superstar DJs the norm. My own star-turn came when I happened upon blond bombshell DJ Diamond in the ladies’ room and she invited me to spend the rest of the evening chillin’ with her up in VIP. Another great addition to the scene was the Ringling International Arts Festival, where I caught Mikhail Baryshnikov checking out my rack before we all filed into the theater to enjoy the offbeat cabaret performance of musical maven Meow Meow.

One thing the RIAF may have lacked was visual art, and this year I searched statewide for interesting artists. Here at home, the first ever Arts United paired live artists and live musicians downstairs at Esca, making for a thoroughly stimulating evening. I also journeyed to St. Pete more than once for the swinging shindigs at ArtPool, a gallery/boutique where owner Marina Williams incorporates fashion shows, live music and ever-rotating artworks into a party as vivid as one of Williams’ own wacky ensembles. But the mack-daddy of art events this year had to be Art Basel Miami Beach, the largest art fair in the United States, and my weekend in Miami left me wide-eyed and exhausted, certainly the marks of time well spent.

The only celebrity I spotted at Basel was my favorite Batman (Val Kilmer — try not to laugh), but Super Bowl XLIII in Tampa brought me up close and personal with Lindsay Lohan, Evander Holyfield and John Legend, among others. My top celebrity meeting of ‘09 was when the Hasidic reggae star Matisyahu played Jannus Landing in June. Matis invited me via Twitter to a sit in on a short live set at WMNF Tampa, and I was really impressed with how talented and genuine the singer was in person, taking the time to stop and chat, pose for a picture, and sign a copy of his new single for me.

I did not get to meet Britney Spears, tragically, but the pop starlet’s show in March at the St. Pete Times Forum was actually my favorite review to write, exploring the dichotomy between a real girl on stage singing and dancing, and the mythic character “Britney Spears” has morphed into. We all have our masks, though, don’t we? And speaking of masks, let’s talk about mine. In last week’s issue, I made CL contributor MC Coolidge’s “Naughty & Nice” list, earning a gold star for dishing marginally useful/entertaining information, but also a demerit for not being quite cruel enough to warrant my anonymity.

Point taken, Ms. Coolidge, and thus I offer you now, Sarasota, The Scenestress’ New Year’s resolution for 2010: to be consistently more ruthless. Over the past year I’ve learned a lot about this new job of mine, and about Sarasota as a whole. In my work I’ve always attempted to stay positive and focus on the good in this city, instead of offering the serial disparagement many critics seem to rely upon. But let’s be honest: Everybody likes a hint of snark now and then. And so while 2009 has been a lot of fun, in 2010 I promise to always bring you the story behind the story, whether it’s pretty or not. And surely, Sarasota, you won’t let me disappoint.

I thank you, dear readers, for a wonderful year, and for your continued support and devotion. I owe you the same. Cheers and Happy New Year!

As always, find The Scenestress on Facebook and Twitter for daily updates on hot Suncoast happs.

If I have one concept to impart in my weekly time with each of you it is this: The scale and scope of happening hotness in this town continues to impress me, and we have those of you who are getting out there and making it happen to thank for that. Last week in particular, those awesome folks were numerous and varied. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Monthly dance party Soap has become something of a guilty pleasure for me. Guilty because Wednesday morning at the office after a night downing PBRs and whomping it up with Skiffle & Co. is generally a particularly tough concept. On this particular Tuesday, however, due to the Thanksgiving holiday, I secured a glorious Wednesday off. “It’s party time,” my pink hoop earrings seemed to be saying, so I plugged them in and headed to the Cabana for an extra-special Soap with musical guest Gil Mantera’s Party Dream, all the way from Ohio.

I was not familiar with GMPD before the night began but I must say their show will not soon be forgotten. I arrived as I Kill Pxls was finishing up his future-crooner set and made the rounds in the familiar dark smokiness of the Cabana. Bartendress Carrie, with a flower in her hair, had a drink ready for me before I could get to the bar top, as usual, and I greeted her and BF Jake Dubber aka Shock to the System, as he rocked out with his signature lightning-bolt-arm. Local faves This Is an Adventure took the stage before the Party Dream began and cemented their standing as a crowd-worthy act once more with their live rendition of “Fantasy.”

I knew I was in for a treat when three guys in black and red Adidas tracksuits arrived and carried a total of nine beers on stage with them. I was parked directly in front of Gil himself and his black studded gloves drew attention to his finger work on the keyboard while Ultimate Donny on guitar kicked it out center-stage. The dance floor filled immediately and I worked it out with the best of them until the boys couldn’t possibly throw out another ’80s dance move and bid goodnight with a finale of their synthy hit “Elmo’s Wish.”

Being the intrepid reporter I am, I followed the band “backstage” into one of the Cabana’s actual motel rooms to ask them some stupid questions like, “If you were an animal, which would you be?” Scruffy-faced Ultimate Donny’s answer: “I wouldn’t want to be an animal. I like being who I am.” Say word. The Dream boys and I enjoyed a screwdriver before it was time to shut it down for the night and they took off in their ultimate Ford Winstar van. Although they didn’t light their junk on fire as anticipated — something to do with the band’s parents being in the crowd that night, perhaps — GMPD was a rowdy, raw, wild show, the likes of which we certainly do not see every day in Sarasota. Come back and visit, boys!

After a very hearty traditional turkey day I was almost on my feet again by Friday night and hurriedly threw on my version of dancing shoes — patent open-toed pumps, natch — to join local PR maven Gayle Williams for the opening night of the Sarasota Ballet’s performance of Giselle. I snagged possibly the last open parking spot in downtown Sarasota and rushed into the Opera House just in time to get a program and fall breathlessly into my seat as visiting maestro Emil de Cou lifted his baton.

This was my first ballet since childhood and I was truly enthralled by the beauty and grace of the dancers’ movements. I loved watching the ballerinas flit about the stage, alternately playing joyful, murderous and everything in between. The second act of Giselle was even better, as the 20 ballerinas in beautiful white dresses — representing ghostly scorned lovers — all danced in unison while the single male dancer bounded fearfully across the stage.

The festivities continued that night at Urban Reef, aka the old Esca. I suppose I had been subconsciously boycotting the new place, but E.J. Porter’s invitation to his latest event, Black on Black Friday, the follow up to his successful Ultra White Affair at G.Wiz a few months back, was more than I could resist. As I described last time, Mr. Porter and his crowd know how to throw a party. Both floors of Esca — I mean Urban Reef — were closed to the public for the event and delicious spreads of food were lying in wait as well as two-for-one drinks and a great mix of classic soul and hot new hip-hop.

I’m not sure it’s possible, but the people were even more glammed up for this party than the last, with men in stunner shades left and right and ladies showing off shoulders and stilettos despite the chilly temps. By midnight, with the club completely packed, the doors were shut for the night. The event was surely a success, including one memorable moment getting trapped on the staircase with about 20 other partygoers when the rooms were too full to let anyone up or down. And what do you think we did? Start our own hallway dance party, of course.

The dancing continued into the wee hours on Friday. On Saturday, I rested. Something about beauty sleep? Yea. Sunday morning I was happy to drag myself out of bed and down to the CL offices to chip in with a little neighborhood clean-up prior to Rosemary Rising this Thursday — “Sarasota’s hippest holiday walk” if you didn’t know. After a little honest labor it was time for The Kidney Koncert, a benefit at The Children’s Garden for local bartender and friend to all Eddie Sager’s battle with kidney cancer.

In this just-off-the-beaten-path venue, friends of Eddie gathered to enjoy live music from Nino Pinelli, Tim Salem and Passerine among others, as well as a delicious whole roasted pig and old-fashioned mac ’n’ cheese, plus all the wine and beer you could drink. The dark night, cool air and whimsical garden was the perfect backdrop to conclude my week with one last pinot grigio. It feels great to be a city with so many caring, creative and enthusiastic people in all walks of life.

Bring it, Sarasota! Whatchu got next?

Become a fan of The Scenestress on facebook or follow on twitter and you’ll always know what I’m up to…

After a late Saturday night ending in an impromptu pool party at a residence on Longboat Key, the  jaunt to the Colony provided everything I needed to enjoy my Sunday. I said “hello” to the brunette bikini-clad Miss Klauber, and went straight to the grill for a burger and next the bar for a bloody. My posse and I grabbed a seat on the sand and enjoyed some serious sustenance and getting acquainted with our surroundings.

The event may have been under-attended, but the sun and sea were shining and the temperature near perfect. The beach noise of the water and the wind mostly drowned out the change-in-the-dryer-like tunes and I was happy like a clam. I did fight quite a battle with the seagulls, one particularly daring bird making off with most of a friend’s lunch, but kind grill-master Jamil was happy to replace the stolen dog.

By late afternoon a number of movers and shakers arrived to support the Colony’s golden girl including daddy Michael Klauber and local charity doyenne Graci McGillicuddy, looking bright with hot-pink flower appliqués on her jacket and jeans. Kenroy Simmons, local fitness trainer and 2009 CL Lust Lister, also grabbed a seat by the pool and noshed on some chicken wings. The gray-hairs and hot bodies gathered poolside right next to our DJ, ostensibly enjoying the thumpin’ grooves.

My overall verdict? Club Colony got me out of the house and onto the sand, which, despite the fact that I live in sunny Sarasota, I do not do as often as I would like. Bring your friends, your bathing suit and a sweater, and relax pool- or ocean-side while you spot some of Sarasota’s big fish enjoying white wine and techno music. Miss Molly tells me the Colony may host one more Sunday pool party before “winter” is upon us, but hopes to make the event a weekly activity come spring. (Stay tuned to CL for the details as they are available.) Chilling beach-side with a burger and a bloody Mary? It just makes sense.

Upon arrival a nice young man led me upstairs to the reception while sharing a little history about the building, which was actually built in 1926 and was at one time, among other things, a gentlemen’s club. A server greeted me promptly to offer a drink, after which I greeted a few other Loaf-ers and played spot-the-rival-media-groups (I tallied a few from SRQ Magazine and The Observer, with whom I very politely shook hands when introduced).

Well-dressed Manager Amanda Kastor stopped to welcome us as we enjoyed some fruit and cheese and to tell us a little more about the restuarant’s entertainment plans, including monthly theme parties as well as live pianists and full bands performing on the weekends in the courtyard and/or upstairs.

If you can, take advantage of their almost-all-day Happy Hour, which runs from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. and picks up again from 10 p.m. to 1 a.m. (the kitchen is open late, too). With what looks to be a strong team in the front of the house, and a capable crew in the kitchen, the First Street Chop House is on its way.

Contemporary art and low light set the mood at Selva. My date and I spend a short time waiting at the bar during which Sir Steve helps me choose a delicious martini made with Chambord, vanilla vodka, and champagne (the “French”). Vinny Sizemore, local playboy and owner of denim destination Stitch Boutique pops by with air kisses, and I politely wait before he is out of ear shot before turning to my date to tell him I’ve spotted a rival local girlie blogger sporting a very staid hot-pink pashmina/LBD combo. Ha. I always knew I was better…dressed.

Getting to the table I’m a little overwhelmed by the menu, and also the abundance of Affliction t-shirts in the room. While the atmosphere at Selva is quite elegant, it sadly seems to be a gathering spot for douchebags and their dates. Scanning the menu my date immediately chooses the octopus ceviche with avocado (yum), and I get an order of the truffle oil french fries to start (at right). Next, on the recommendation of several friends, I tried the tuna tartare, while my date had lobster with mango (also yum). The tuna was good, but not thrilling, and the service was definitely weak with no less than six different people bringing things to or from the table. Throw in a cheap bottle of wine and that killed my $100 gift card amount right quick so we button things up at Selva and bounce before we run into any more frenemies.

After a stop into Cork on St. Armands to scoop up one Miss JenKing visiting from New York, it’s over to Ivory, where the crew has gathered for Plush Entertainment’s big Website Launch Party.  This is where things start getting fuzzy. There’s music, my friends are there, and I have a long talk with a woman in a sparkly dress named Liz in the middle of the street. Next thing I know the place is closing and thankfully a beautiful friend gives me a ride out of there.

Unfortunately, said ride is to another party, but one can’t complain about being entertained at the fabulous home of Ivory Resident DJ Ansidis, aka Frank Enright. The Enrights are always consummate hosts, what with the fully stocked bar, built-in DJ setup, fire pit, hammock, and consistent carloads of great people. On this particular occasion one of those great people shows up with a bag of 20 tacos, which I happily dive into after my wimpy dinner, and then ask (very politely, no doubt) to please be taken home so I may pass out. I’ve got big plans for Saturday — making banners with a couple of favorite friends for the Sarasota Roller Girls‘ first bout tomorrow night. It will be my first derby bout too and I can’t wait.

Aside from the beautiful bar and capable menu, Arthur himself had always been a draw for me, so it’s very nice to see him back out on the floor of the restaurant. After I finished my calamari, Arthur sat down with us for a while to discuss his backyard garden, the changes at the restaurant, and that one time he dated the Jewish-Italian mayor of Providence, R.I. (“the sex was great but I’m not looking to be the first lady, okay!”). Another highlight of the evening at Main Street Oyster Bar was when server John stopped by to tell me that he was a fan of my work. “To what work are you referring?” I asked with a wink. All in all, the only thing I’ll miss about Zoria was meeting my favorite bartender in the handicap bathroom when I needed to make a “purchase”, but as they say, all good things must come to an end.

Next stop, Ivory. Why I continued drinking after dinner on a Wednesday I don’t know, but I wasn’t buying so agreed to go along for the ride. Before even getting in the door I ran into six friends including the lovely lady of The HuB, Assunta Swier, and her feisty friend/massage therapist Stacie Nevelus. We followed them inside and ran into the rest of the Ivory regulars but it didn’t take long to get tired of the piped in hip-hop, so we beat it.

At the Sports Page came the proverbial “last drink I didn’t need,” but a group of Filipino friends were at a booth against the wall so Joe and I joined them in helping break beer bottles attempting to perform one of those pull-the-tablecloth-out-from-under-the-silverware-type parlor tricks (waitress Lisa was quite gracious about helping clean up our mess). Black tie clad young men and women with big instrument cases flooded in for a late night bite and after a club sandwich of my own I hit the road and passed out. Needless to say, my Thursday did not feel so good, but it was nice to spend a little time on the town reconnecting with my city. With events on the agenda for the next six weeks and parking spots harder and harder to come by I think it is safe to say that Season is here.